A two-story log house, a one-room 

 log office, a log barn, and, across the 

 creek, the log shack we occupied, fifty 

 miles from the railroad, and no end of 

 miles from anything else, but wilderness 

 — that was Yeddar's. 



Old Yeddar — Uncle John, the 

 guides and trappers and teamsters 

 called him — had solved the problem 

 of ideal existence. He ran this rough 

 road house without any personal ex- 

 penditure of labour or money. He sold 

 whisky in his office to the passing 

 teamsters and guides, and relied upon 

 the same to do the chores around the 

 place, for which he gave them grub, 

 the money for which came from the 

 occasional summer tourist, such as we. 



Mrs. Spiker 'did' for him in the 

 summer for her board and that of her 

 little girl, and in the winter he and a 



41 



